Moments ago Tom Brady “secured” his fifth Super Bowl appearance in less than 8 years. But has anyone stopped to think aren’t the details of Tom Brady’s life a little too convenient and a little too “American Dream.”
Brady’s messianic rise to stardom starts out oh so meager, much like we see the plot of Steve Rogers in Marvel’s Captain America.
Plagued with feeble weight, tuberculosis and slow foot speed, we are to believe a man named Bill Belichik saw past all that and drafted Tom Brady to be the star quarterback of his football team. That team? The New England Patriots.
Oh, of course. Think of every 80s spy movie and what was the Soviet’s cover story: “Oh, yes, fellow American. I too labor in the job market as Strong Erect Steel Corporation in small town New England.”
His cover story of working for the whitest, All-American sounding team is patently Russian. But let’s look deeper.
When exactly did Brady go from feeble Eteve Roger’s to chisel chin dirty blonde superhuman who plays football at the age of 41?
Even worse, he has the perfect supermodel wife, emasculate white picket mansion and has a rugged yet fun dad fashion sense that could earn him a spot on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.
America wants to see an everyman like Patrick Mahome or Drew Brees win the Super Bowl, but oh so conveniently these true American men lost out to a system of complex backroom bribes and sabotage.
Super Bowl viewership will fall yet again. Chicken wings will go I bought. America will be lost. And its all the fault of that %$#^ Tom Brady.